Filthy Lies
by Evilsaurus
Summary: [Set after Ned's Death] - Catelyn wants to find out why Petyr has lied about breaking her maidenhead. When he sends her a raven, she can't resist meeting him with anger and determination in her step. She misses her Lord Husband and will take that anger out on anyone nearby - including her old childhood friend. Will they be able to make amends before the war ends everything?


**A/N and Summary: **We all know about Petyr Baelish's love for Catelyn Stark, but after reading the first book, I thought that I'd write a little number in which Catelyn confronts him about certain rumors that were being spread at court. According to Tyrion, Petyr is famous for spreading the story of how he took Cat's 'maidenhead', that's virginity in case you didn't know. She was outraged at hearing such a thing and I started to wonder where I could take this idea. It's set after Ned dies, so she's filled with anger and she's very lonely, so try to keep that in mind. Petyr summons her to a brothel again. Varys's little spies have informed him where Catelyn and Robb are camped, so he's made his way there to 'support' her in her loses. Catelyn doesn't see it that way at all and is angry at hearing from him so suddenly in the middle of a war that he shouldn't be apart of. She's also still upset by the lies he's been spreading, so feels obliged to meet him and get her soul cleansed. Let's just say, he was definitely not welcomed warmly when she first walked into his brothel, but is he ever? ...

**FILTHY LIES.**

"Why. did. you. lie?" Catelyn demanded as the heavy iron doors were thrust open before her. Petyr looked up from his rustic wooden desk, startled yet over-joyed by Catelyn's entrance. He'd secretly been expecting to see her for a while. The news of his marriage to Lysa Arryn had obviously reached her ears and deep down, Petyr hoped that she was jealous. He knew that it was unlikely because Cat was still hopelessly in love with Eddard Stark - years had been spent building their unbreakable bond - so it was most likely a business meeting today... or that's what he'd originally thought, until her harsh accusations filled the air. Petyr had sent her a raven, just over a week ago, informing her that he would be staying only a few minutes away from her camp. Robb was heading South, according to Varys' little birds and Catelyn would be with her son every step of the way. Littlefinger saw this as an opportunity: one that would present him with everything he'd ever wanted.

"My lady, what is it that I'm supposed to have lied about?" He asked innocently, standing to greet her at the door. Littlefinger had always been good at playing the sweet and sincere victim. Even when they had been children, Cat couldn't even count any longer, the amount of times she'd done something against her will, just to prevent him from getting into trouble with her Lord Father. Catelyn blushed now - just as she had back when they were young kin - a shade similar to the red in her amber hair as she nodded to the guards, signalling for them to leave the room. Once everything was quiet and still, she began to speak daringly, her voice dripping with venom. "How _dare_ you spread your vicious lies around court? You slander _my_ name, the name of _my_ families. All because you don't want people to think that you're an obsessive love-sickened little boy. You know that we were only ever good friends, Petyr. Why spit on that friendship with lies? With false-truths? Lying about things doesn't make it true. You broke _Lysa's_ maidenhead, not mine." She stated, going off the rails with her long monologue. Catelyn had stood still, meeting his eyes with seriousness. Petyr seemed startled and suddenly out of place, like the Lady had said something that she shouldn't have. "Don't look so surprised. My sister used to tell me everything when we were girls." Cat added as a side note, placing the look he'd given her as confusion.

Petyr's expression turned into a guilty one, but the rye smirk on his sneaky lips remained intact. Catelyn had always hated that look. It was the one he gave her as a child, when he was trying to earn forgiveness for breaking her doll or ruining her dress. With a sigh, she pushed back her shoulders, standing like a true lady of the North. "Why would you lie about something like that, Petyr?" She asked again, wanting honesty to drip from the liar's lips for a change. Cat doubted that she would hear what she wanted to, but it was always worth a shot. Never would Littlefinger usually tell the truth. He knew what he wanted and he'd desired this woman for most of his life.

He met the deep colors in her eyes with a sigh, looked over the endearing creases in her no longer fresh face, noticed the richness of her hair that seemed to burn brighter with age. Petyr always looked at her in this way, and it made her uncomfortable for a moment. It felt as though he were undressing her with his eyes. "Because in those moments... I was pretending she was you, Catelyn. I didn't make love to Lysa that night, I made it with you." He confessed. Cat's expression remained the picture of stone. "She was never you, my Lady." Petry finished, watching her every move, even as she turned around. Her back was to him, her eyes gluing themselves to the wall in front of her. This brothel was filthy, but she couldn't help being reminded of the last time she was in one - waiting for her dear Ned to arrive. She missed him more than anything on earth, wanted her own life to end so that she could go and be with him. The Gods wanted her there for a little longer though. They wanted her alive; that was what she told herself each morning. She had duty and honour and a small family left to care and provide for. The Tully's would always rise above. 'Family, Duty, Honour'. And she was forever a Tully of Riverrun, as well as a Stark of Winterfell.

"I am not _your_ lady... and I never will be, Petyr." Cat said, finally turning back to meet his gaze. The taunting expression he had once held, quickly dropped to one of blankness. This wasn't the first time that Cat had denied him and it would definitely not be the last. "I love my Lord Husband, and pray to the gods and the heavens that they will return him to me or at least take me, so I may be reunited with him. You want me for passion, not love. We can never have what you think you want." She stated matter-of-factly. Silently, Catelyn moved over to one of the seats in the room, her legs ached from riding so long in the cold and rain. Petyr's fire was as welcoming as it was unforgiving. The flames lapped at the wood, burning at the old char. He hadn't cleaned it in a while, she'd thought.

"If I weren't married to Lysa? ... " He started before Catelyn interrupted his thoughts as well as her own. "This is _not_ about Lysa. It never was. You used her, Petyr. That alone is unforgivable, and I hope that you managed to keep your secret fantasies to yourself when you broke her and bedded her. I'd rather you kill me now and end my misery. If you truly love me, you will do me this mercy." She said with misery dripping through her vocals. Petyr took out his knife, the same one he'd almost used on Ned Stark. Cat's seat was by the fire, her back to him once again. He smiled softly as he took in the sight of her long wavy red hair; the same that he'd dreamt so opt about. It tumbled down her back like a waterfall and all he wanted was to run his hands through it and have her purr at the feeling. They had nicknamed her 'kitten' once, when she was very young, but as she grew into a lioness, the name no longer seemed appropriate to use. His hand quivered over the blade of Valerian metal, in the same way it quivered over the sword he'd tried to use to battle Brandon Stark. He wanted her, wanted to win her, wanted to run his hands through her soft hair as she kissed him passionately in nothing but a fur cover.

As he approached, slowly did he slide the blade in front of her neck, pressing lightly against the flesh with the sharp end. Petyr didn't want to hurt her, he couldn't bear the thought of knowing that she wasn't in this world any longer. With his free hand, the man pushed her long red hair over her left shoulder, revealing her smooth pale neck to him. "You are a true friend." She whispered quietly, being careful of how often she moved the skin of her throat as the blade began creating blood lines. Just as Petyr was actually about to push in hard and slit, before pulling out... he found that he just couldn't do the deed. He dropped the knife on the floor and grabbed Cat's face with both hands. Forcefully, but with a strangely soft sort of ease, he pulled her lips to his, kissing and pulling at the lips to make them swell and protest. She couldn't find the strength to push him away, having prepared herself for death moments ago. She wanted to be with Ned, to have his spirit and soul by her side again. Littlefinger had just robbed her of another chance to be beside her husband and now he was kissing her and she found that she couldn't fight.

When she'd regained her strength, Cat finally managed to pull her lips from his. She turned her face towards the fire again and said nothing. She'd not kissed Petyr back, but deep in her bones, she knew that his persistence wasn't done with yet. "Ned is no longer of this earth, my lady. I could offer you so much more than death. We can find your daughters and sons, have a few more of our own and take back Winterfell. You know I'd never hurt you, and after speaking with Sansa, I already regard her as one of my own." Petyr confessed, speaking into her ear and hair in a hushed tone. Catelyn just shivered and moved to stand. She didn't like how close he was to her, how gently he ran his fingers over the revealed skin on her hands, that rested on the arms of the chair.

"I do not wish to see you again, Lord Baelish. You have dishonoured your house, Lysa and the Lord of Winterfell, but above all that, you have dishonoured me and that is something that I cannot forgive. You will help me find me children and then we will depart and speak no more of what has happened today or any other day... am I understood?" She asked, speaking in the voice that could only belong to a high born lady.

"Cat? I-" Petyr tried to protest, not wanting to believe that he was truly losing this woman. The woman he'd been in love with from the moment he'd laid eyes on her. The woman he'd dreamt of for what felt like a million years. The woman he'd just kissed with every ounce of emotion he owned. She snapped, interrupting his sentence before he could speak it. "Don't! I trusted you. I genuinely thought that you cared, but now I'm starting to believe that you never did care for me at all. As Tyrion Lannister said, you just care for the curve of my breasts and the imaginary heat I feel for you between my legs. You lie and you scheme for the things you want. If Ned were here, your head would be on a spike now... and at this time, I don't believe that I would stop him." She said viciously, moving towards the iron doors with anger in her stride.

Petyr felt embarrassment and upset brewing inside of him as he grabbed her arm to prevent her from leaving. It wasn't anything harsh and it didn't hurt her, but it was forceful and brimming with unspoken meaning. "I am offering you everything. I have money and power, you could be happy. Ned Stark is dead and once you are gone, you will not return to him. When we die, it's the end. There's nothing more beyond that, Cat." He mumbled, holding her firmly, eyes burning into the woman's, trying to make her understand.

"By the old gods and the new, hoping that death brings me solace is much more rewarding than living a life completely in fear of finding nothing on the other side. I do feel sympathy for you, Petyr. You've lived a long time in hope and I am crushing that, and not for the first time. My father betrothed me to a man, who I didn't care for. You do not know how happy it made me to find out that Brandon had died in battle. I wanted to be with Ned from the beginning. I prayed for it... and the gods allowed my prayers to be answered. I will pray for you tonight. For you and Lysa." She nodded, slowly pulling her arm out of his grasp. It pained her to see his expression: so confused and disorientated. Petyr didn't know if her statement was a warning of death or one of hope, but later that month, when he found out about Cat's death at the Towers... Lysa's spirit followed soon after.

It was now only a matter of time, before he was reunited with his beloved Catelyn. And only then, after losing her, did he start to pray and believe in all the gods. "One day." He would whispered before bed. "One day, my sweet Kitten."


End file.
